


Right Where She Belongs

by ironfyxen



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-12 22:51:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11171751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironfyxen/pseuds/ironfyxen
Summary: Hana's going off to college, and her honorary moms Fareeha and Angela volunteer to help her move in.





	Right Where She Belongs

Fareeha was used to heavy lifting, but this was getting a little excessive. Sweating in her workout shorts and muscle t, she set the cardboard box down with a thump on the landing to catch a breather. She looked up at the number on the plastic plaque next to the door. _4._ Groaning inwardly and cursing outwardly, she glanced up to the staircase spiraling away above her head.

She could have picked the first floor. Or even the second. But the 8th? It’s not like Hana would be enjoying the view. _She spends all her time staring at her screens anyway,_ Fareeha grumbled. She hoisted the box back up to her hips, its contents clanging together.

“PHAAAAARRAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH, what’s taking you so long?!? It’s lunch time!! And careful with those!!” Four floors above, the object of Fareeha’s frustration had appeared over the landing. Bouncing like a toddler, Hana beamed as Fareeha stomped her way up the staircase and through the doorway bearing that blessed number 8.

  
“Which room, again?” growled Fareeha through gritted teeth.

  
“808, like the bass drum!” Hana leapt into Fareeha’s path and did a little dance, the messy bun knotted on top of her head bouncing wildly. Despite her aching muscles, Fareeha felt a smile tugging at her lips. They’d been at this for hours, but Hana’s excitement about finally moving in to her new dorm room was infectious. She’d gotten the acceptance letter in January, and since then the months had flown by. She’d still be active with Overwatch, she promised.

  
“Everyone does extracurriculars!” Hana had mumbled at a concerned Angela one night, sitting crosslegged on the lounge floor. “And besides, it’s not like I’ll have to actually like, do homework. I’m an A+ last-minute essay-writing protégé!” she mashed the controller furiously, and the screen exploded in pixelated fire.

  
“More like a diva”, Angela sighed, relenting. She’d tussled Hana’s hair, and Fareeha, lounging on the couch with her tablet, went back to perusing dorm furniture with a grin.

  
But August had come too soon. At the crack of dawn, Fareeha had roused Angela with a kiss to the forehead and padded to the base kitchen for a cup of coffee, to brace herself against the box-wrangling and shelf-assembling that was to come. She was not entirely surprised to see Hana already awake, several shots of espresso in to her big day. By the time Angela came shuffling in wrapped in her favorite linen bathrobe, Fareeha and Hana were giggling helplessly at the table as Hana flipped through last night’s photos on her phone. The rest of the team had a routine mission today, but Fareeha and Angela, as Hana’s honorary moms, had stayed behind to help with the move. Their early start today hadn’t prevented last night’s going-away party, featuring good-natured ribbing from Lena, tears from McCree, and piles of Froot-by-the-Foot—Hana’s favorite.

  
Standing in room 808, Fareeha chuckled mentally, remembering a particularly good photo of Genji with a Froot wrapper tied around his head. She settled the box down and surveyed their handiwork, hands on her hips.

  
“Ok, well, that should be the last of it from the U-Haul. Now we can start putting together the—wait, where’s Angela? Did she go to pick up the food?” Fareeha’s stomach growled. This morning’s bagel and leftover Froot-by-the-Foot was a long way away.

  
Hana rolled her eyes. “You know Dr. Mom.” She swung her thumb back out the doorway. Fareeha ducked her head out, finally catching a glimpse of platinum blonde at the end of the hallway. Angela was tucked into the window seat, oblivious to the general hullaballoo of move-in day. At her feet was a battered box, marked “free”, and at Angela’s feet was a pile of textbooks. One of them was in her hands, and she flicked through it eagerly, blissfully ignoring the yelling freshmen and cursing parents flooding past her.

  
“Angela. Angela. An. Ge. LA”. The doctor came to with a start, flinching away from where Fareeha had prodded her on the last syllable. Fareeha chuckled.

  
“You gonna give us a hand here, baby?” Fareeha extended her own towards her wife. Angela sheepishly placed her slender fingers in Fareeha’s broad, calloused hand.

  
“I was just sitting down for a breather, and then I saw all these here, and I just couldn’t—paleoethnobotany! I haven’t read this in—whoop!” Fareeha had pulled Angela into her arms, roaring with laughter. The soreness from hauling Hana’s boxes of posters and trophies up 8 flights of stairs melted away as Fareeha swung Angela around, cackling as the doctor shrieked and nearby parents dove for cover.

  
“Fareeha! Fareeha, really!” Angela was laughing too, gasping for breath as Fareeha steadied her on her own feet once more. Fareeha could never get tired of that sound. “Sorry for sneaking off. What can I help with?”

  
“Well, for starters, you can order this.” Fareeha thrust the pizza menu at Angela. They’d made a bargain long ago that Fareeha, ruthless and stoic on the battlefield, could avoid making phone calls if she washed all the dishes. Fareeha had grumbled—Angela made a lot of dishes, especially mugs—but agreed in the end. Phone calls sucked. It was worth it.

  
“And then, you can help us put all this stuff together. I saved all the IKEA assembly for you.” Fareeha knew how much Angela secretly loved IKEA, and that she loved the assembly process even more. It took all the skill and intuition of surgery, with a much lower mortality rate.

  
Angela pulled her phone out of the back pocket of her high-waisted jeans. “You know what I like, darling.” She stood on tiptoes to kiss the tip of Fareeha’s nose as she put the phone to her ear.

  
Ducking back into Hana’s room, Fareeha was entirely unsurprised to find Hana perched on the school-issue dresser in the corner, slotting a string of lights into a hook in the ceiling. Back at the base, Hana’s room had been covered in bright posters and flashing lights, anything that might be called the visual equivalent of a Warhead candy. Most of those things were waiting in the boxes stacked along the walls, ready to make this new room home. The old room, meanwhile, was looking a little bare. Fareeha felt a pang that had nothing to do with hunger.

  
“What’s up, Birb-Mom? Dr. Mom say we couldn’t order the taco kind?” Hana had catapulted from the dresser to the bed and was flopping up and down onto the mattress, snapping her gum loudly. Fareeha looked warily out of the corner of her eye to see if Angela had arrived to chastise Hana for such dangerous behavior.

  
“She secretly loves the taco kind.” Fareeha flopped down onto the bed next to Hana, hair beads jingling. She bravely pulling a smile back onto her face. “Besides, she—oof!”

  
Without warning, Hana had flipped over and grabbed Fareeha in a bear hug, burying her face against Fareeha’s chest. Fareeha, shocked, felt her blue t-shirt going wet with tears. In the silence she rested her hand atop Hana’s shaking head, pulling the girl closer.

  
“Ok, pizza’s ordered! It should be…here…” Angela appeared in the doorway, her accented English trailing away as she took in the situation. Wordlessly she set the menu on the dresser and tiptoed over to the bed. Gently easing herself down on Hana’s other side, she wrapped surprisingly strong arms around them both, her hand finding Fareeha’s once more. Fareeha caught the soft smell of jasmine from her blonde hair as her own tears started.

  
“I—I just—hehe, look at us.” Hana gave a muffled giggle, squished now between Fareeha and Angela. “Pharah, Mercy, and D.Va, reporting for duty! Justice rains from above! Fear the tears!”

  
“Nerf THIS!”Fareeha squeezed Hana tighter, and all three women laughed, with not a little sniffling. Finally, Fareeha craned her face down to kiss Hana lightly on the top of the head.

  
“It’s not forever, you know. Winter break will be here before you know it. And we’ll probably see you for a mission before the end of the week!”

  
Angela squeezed Fareeha’s hand. “Or earlier, if I hear about any crazy party stunts! You better behave, young lady! I don’t want to have to make a house call!” Wiping away a bit of smeared mascara with one hand, Angela dug her other fingers into Hana’s side, and the ticklish girl squealed and squiggled. Gasping, Hana sat up, propping her back against the wall.

  
“Mooooommmm!!!” she groaned at Angela, through a watery grin.

  
“You called?” chirped Fareeha, tickling her other side.

  
A few minutes later, Hana was all smiles again. Trying in vain to tickle Fareeha’s abs, she suddenly dove for Angela’s phone as it chirped out the first few notes of a cotton-candy pop song. “Pizza’s here! I got it!” She bounded out the door, hot pink sneakers smacking down the hallway.

  
“When did she change my ringtone to ‘Gee’?” Angela shook her head in mock outrage. Catching Fareeha’s eye, her smile slipped again.

  
“I’m going to miss her, too.” Fareeha drew her wife close.

  
“It has to happen sooner or later, I guess.” Angela sighed. “Let’s hide them now? While she’s gone?”

  
They could already hear Hana’s voice, echoing up the stairway. “You watch _Carmilla_ too?? Oh my goddddd I thought nobody here would have even heard of it!”

  
By the time Hana re-entered the room, waving goodbye to a tall girl with undercut pink hair, Fareeha and Angela were studiously assembling a bookshelf, Angela sneaking peeks at the directions Fareeha has characteristically cast aside. Tucked under Hana’s sheets, for her to find later, was a plush eagle and a fluffy snowy owl. They weren’t exactly the right birds, Angela had sniffed. Fareeha was more of a falcon, and a barn owl better matched Angela’s Valkyrie suit. But Fareeha had had the idea only two days before, and they were the closest they could do on such short notice. She had patted each bird on the head as she settled them under the bright pink comforter, then tucked in Hana’s own favorite stuffed bunny in between their wings.

  
_Right where she belongs_ , Fareeha thought, and she smiled as one last tear trickled down the line of her wadjet tattoo.


End file.
